


The Moments That Made Us

by BastardLady



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Best Friends, Coming Out, Coming of Age, First Kiss, First Love, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, Old Married Couple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:29:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28871610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastardLady/pseuds/BastardLady
Summary: A collection of moments through which Seamus and Dean came to love each other.
Relationships: Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Comments: 35
Kudos: 68





	1. September 1st, 1991

Dean’s window fogged up as he pressed against it, looking back at his parents. He tried to wave at them, but they were already out of view. The last glimpse he got was of his little sister running after the train. He collapsed back into his seat. He missed them already. How could he be away from them until _Christmas_? He'd never been away from them that long. He'd miss playing with his little sisters and dancing around the kitchen with his mom. He'd miss his friends. As the station got smaller and smaller in the distance, he could only think to regret his decision to go to Hogwarts. This was surely a mistake. He crumpled into himself and fiddled with his hands.

The only compartment he’d found was one with three sixth year girls, who were all apparently friends with each other. They kept glancing at him and giggling.

One looked at Dean and leaned in to whisper something to the other. She swatted her arm and covered her mouth, playfully chiding and giggling, “Rosanne!”

The third girl rolled her eyes at them and held out her hand to Dean, “Don’t mind them. They’re just arseholes. I’m Elva. This is Rosanne and Jo.” 

“I’m Dean,” he shook her hand timidly.

“Hi, Dean. Your first year?”

He looked up at her nervously and looked back down at his hands in his lap, “Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, kiddo. It’ll be alright. Just takes a little getting used to,” she shoved him playfully, “You excited?”

Dean thought for a moment. He chewed the inside of his cheek and looked up at Elva. He didn’t know. So he lied, “Yeah, I’m excited.”

“Chav, you look like you’re gonna shit your pants. Chill out!” the second girl laughed at Dean.

“Rosanne, stop being such a bitch.”

“Hey, I’m just saying.”

“Well, stop saying. He’s literally just sitting there, you dick.”

“Man, fuck you, Joey.”

Dean picked up his stuff and got up to leave. He could feel himself starting to cry. He wanted to be anywhere else. Really, he wanted to be back home. But now he was trapped on a train, driving in the opposite direction from the life he knew, surrounded by people he didn't know and who he didn't seem to like. It was suffocating.

“Jesus, Rose, look what you did? What the fuck?”

“Kid, you don’t need to go, I was just playing. Come on.”

He was already out the door. Dean could hear them bickering behind him but he forced himself not to care. He rubbed his eyes with his palms and looked for a new seat.

Out of nowhere, a boy came bounding towards him from the opposite direction, crashing into Dean and tackling him to the floor.

“Oi, I’m sorry mate!” the other boy jumped up to his feet and held his hand out for Dean to take, although he was much shorter, “Didn’t mean to bump into you there! You alright? Knock the wind out of you?”

Dean hoisted himself up, “It’s fine. You good?”

The boy grinned crookedly and stood -- Dean thought probably unconsciously -- on his toes, “Well, I’m just jolly! What’s your name?”

A gentle smile graced Dean’s face and he answered, "I'm Dean Thomas."

“I’m Seamus, but all the people I accidentally run over get to call me Sea!”

That made Dean laugh.

Seamus’ smile seemed to grow even wider at that, “Where are you sitting? Want to come sit with us?”

Dean nodded. Maybe this wouldn't be a mistake after all.


	2. September 27th, 1991

“I don’t even know how you managed that!” Dean laughed as he looked at the burn that was jetting up Seamus’ forearm. 

Seamus tapped his temple and raised his eyebrow, “I’m just  _ that _ smart.”

Dean laughed and traced it lightly with his finger, “Does it hurt?”

“Not really. But Pomfrey is making me wear that thing for two weeks so it heals up good.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

They were alone in their dorm and the windows were open, carrying in birdsong and a warm breeze. Dean poked at the burn and Seamus yelped.

“I thought it didn’t hurt?”

“Well it does now! Ow!” Seamus shoved Dean and laughed, “It’s, like, tingling now.”

Dean touched it again, lighter, playfully, “Did that hurt?”

Seamus punched Dean's shoulder and mocked his voice, “Did that hurt?”

Dean laughed and punched him back, to which Seamus tackled him to the ground. They laughed and wrestled with each other, rolling over one another and knocking into furniture. Dean climbed on top of Seamus and pinned him down. 

“I win.”

“You cheated!”

“Not my fault you’re short.”

Seamus giggled and beat at Dean’s chest.

“Hey!”

“Arsehole!”

They rolled around and tangled with each other and bumped Dean’s bedside stand. A ball rolled off of it, stopping in front of them as they wrestled. Seamus stopped and looked at it.

“What’s that?”

“A football.”

“What’s a football?”

Dean chuckled and picked it up, “Football is a game. It’s a muggle sport.”

Seamus took it from him and looked at it, confused, “What do you do?”

“Do you want me to teach you?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, mate.”

Seamus nodded earnestly and stood up, “Absolutely!"


	3. October 31st, 1991

“Those three sure know how to make it interesting, haven’t they?” Neville said nervously. 

“Reckon a troll could get up here?” Seamus asked.

Dean chuckled and shook his head, but when he looked at him he realized that Seamus was actually scared. Seamus Finnigan, who, up to this point, had been completely fearless. Burns, falling down flights of stairs, flying, meeting new people, speaking in front of the class. Nothing had ever scared him. But looking at him then, he was afraid. Seamus sat on his bed and hugged himself, looking out the window into the foggy night. He was biting his bottom lip and tapping his feet rhythmically against the ground.

“Hey Sea! My parents sent me a load of treats for Halloween. Want some?” he slid the package out from under his bed and sat next to Seamus, “Neville, you come over here too. Got enough to go around.”

The three boys wound up sitting in a circle on the floor. Neville had plenty of questions to ask about muggle candies and Seamus had plenty of opinions to give. 

“Every year my parents take my sisters and me out and we go around and get treats and candies from our neighbors,” Dean explained.

“You _what_?”

Dean laughed, “Yeah! It’s called ‘Trick-or-Treating’. We dress up in costumes and we have to go up to all the houses and flats and say ‘trick-or-treat’ and they give kids treats.”

Seamus gawked and said, “You go out in the freezing cold night and ask strangers for food while wearing _costumes_?”

“I’ve heard of that,” Neville said, “But my Nan wouldn’t ever let me go. She doesn’t like Halloween.”

“My Mum doesn’t like it either,” Seamus said through a mouthful of candy.

“Well, I love Halloween.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just saying that if _I_ was going to go around and beg for sweets that it wouldn’t be this muggle nonsense. I’d want Fudge Flies or Honeyduke’s chocolate for all that trouble.”

Neville crinkled his nose, “Fudge Flies? You like Fudge Flies?”

“Yeah, because they’re _good_.”

Dean laughed. It was nice to see Seamus happy again. Every once in a while they would hear a door slam or there would be a sound from the common room and a look of worry would flash across his face, but every time he met Dean’s eyes he would go calm again. He felt safe with Dean, and Dean was happy. 


	4. November 9th, 1991

The common room was almost empty. A few students lingered about, doing homework or slobbering all over their significant others, and Seamus and Dean found themselves in a couple old arm chairs in a corner of the room.

“What are you drawing?”

“A Christmas present for my sister.”

“She like butterflies?” 

“Wants to study them when she grows up,” Dean chuckled.

Seamus watched Dean as he drew. Dean had this incredible aptitude for art. Seamus was completely captivated by it; he had been since the first time he saw any of Dean’s drawings. The intricate linework, the meticulous shading, the evocative imagery. Seamus didn’t even think anyone so young could be that good at art until meeting Dean. 

Dean looked at Seamus guiltily and suddenly seemed bothered by the silence. He piped up, “Ruth, my littlest sister, wants to be a vet. Like, she wants to be an animal doctor. We have a cat at home and she loves pretending to check his heart and wrapping his paws up with bandages.”

Seamus tried to concentrate on Dean’s words but his mind lingered on Dean’s face. He thought that watching Dean tell stories was so nice. He didn’t talk all that much, so when he did Seamus tended to drop everything and listen. He had such expressive eyes, and this jovial smile that could warm you right up just by looking at it. Just from looking at his face, and those big, brown eyes, Seamus could tell how much he loved his family. 

“Now, Winnie always said she wanted to be a mermaid, but then this last year she decided that she doesn’t like mermaids anymore. Told me she likes fairies better anyway. She really likes reading, Winnie does. My mom thinks it’s because she reads so much that she needs glasses. She has these, like, really big thick glasses lenses.”

He drew these beautiful butterflies and babbled on about his little sisters and what they wanted to be. Seamus listened and watched and tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. To share space with Dean, in itself, was all he could hope for in that moment. But he watched as Dean grasped at straws to find things to say.

“Lucilla has always liked space but she said that she’d never go there--”

“Oi, Dean?”

“Yeah, Sea?”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk. I can sit here and watch you draw all day, mate. I can talk enough for the both of us.”

Dean seemed to let out a breath and he nodded, thankfully.

Seamus held his head in his hands and watched Dean, silently.

 _This was nice_ , he thought.


	5. December 18th, 1991

“Dean! I found it!” Seamus ran into the Great Hall waving a knit hat, “Mum’s not going to kill me after all!”

Dean laughed, “Where was it?”

“Found it shoved in between my bed and the wall,” Seamus sat down and haphazardly put the oversized hat onto his head with a goofy grin.

“Ready?” Dean held up a neatly wrapped package.

Seamus nodded and pulled a small package out of his pocket, “Open mine first!”

Dean shook his head and took it. The wrapping was sloppy at best; Seamus had used two pieces of parchment and taped them together to cover the whole thing. One of them had writing on it that he’d scribbled out. Dean tore the paper off. Inside was a tiny wooden box, which looked to be quite old, with a brass clasp on the front. He opened it and found a silver ring that said something in Irish Gaelic in gold inlay. It was old and worn, and there was a chip that dipped into the first letter. 

It was Seamus’ ring. Dean’s jaw dropped and he looked up at Seamus, who was looking back at him expectantly.

“It says ‘We live protected under each other’s shadow’! Do you like it?” 

“Seamus, I can’t take this from you.”

“Course you can! It’s old anyway, and you’ll probably take better care of it than I ever did.”

“But your mom gave this to you-”

“I want you to have it.”

“Seamus-”

“Dean, you’re my best friend. I want you to have it.” Seamus suddenly dropped his foolhardy smile and became serious. He nodded at the ring, and then at Dean, “Please?”

Dean smiled and slid it onto his finger. 

“Can I open mine now?” Seamus regained his giddy childish demeanor and grabbed his present away from Dean. He barely waited for Dean to nod in affirmation before ripping the paper off. Inside was a small sketchbook, filled cover to cover with animated drawings. Dean chewed the inside of his cheek as he watched Seamus silently flip through it. Some pages, he would stop and stare for a really long time. Others he would giggle at. Some, he would trace. He reached the last page, which had a note: 

‘Seamus,

You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I was nervous to come here but then I met you. I’m glad I met you. Have a happy Christmas :-) 

~Dean T.’

Seamus stared at that page for a really long time. Dean was nervous, so he ventured a question, “Do you like it?”

Seamus didn’t answer; he just looked up at Dean with wide eyes.

Dean was really starting to get nervous now. He worked so hard on it. He hoped it was good. He tried to draw all of Seamus’ favorite things. He didn’t know what else to say, except, “I asked Hermione to teach me how to make the pictures move. I don’t know if I did it all right, but I tried really hard, and-”

Seamus interrupted by leaping out of his seat and hugging Dean from across the table. He hugged back, wordlessly.

“Thank you,” Seamus said into his shoulder.

Dean closed his eyes and breathed him in.


	6. January 11th, 1992

Seamus chased Dean through the castle grounds. Bumping into teachers and tripping over rocks hidden by the undisturbed snow, they reached the frozen lake. Dean leaned over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath and looked up at Seamus with a grin on his face.

“I nearly caught up to you that time!” Seamus said, panting.

“ _I’m_ getting over a cold!” Dean walked over and pushed Seamus in the chest.

“It’s okay to admit that I’m better than you, Thomas.”

“Fat chance, Finnigan.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Dean shook his head with a chuckle.

Seamus caught his breath and watched Dean walk to the edge of the water. He was outlined by the snowy landscape; the colors of his jacket and hat seemed brighter, the blacks of his pants and shoes looked all the more distinct. For some reason -- the halo of white light surrounding his figure, the deafening silence that the snow had wrought, the way he slowly shifted his weight from foot to foot to quell out the cold -- he demanded Seamus’ attention. Even after he’d caught his breath, he found himself staring at Dean.

Dean turned around with a mischievous smile and winked at Seamus, and then took off running across the snow-covered ice. Without thinking, Seamus followed.

“Not fair!” he yelled, laughing.

Dean looked back, unbuttoned his coat, and ran even faster, letting it flow behind him like a cape. He stopped after several yards and spun around laughing and blinking up at the blinding white sky.

Seamus caught up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, giggling, “The bloody hell are you doing?”

Dean looked around at the serene lake and then looked down at Seamus, “Spinning!”

Seamus doubled over laughing and asked, “Why?”

Dean looked down at him and smiled, and without answering grabbed his hands and ran around in a circle. He tried to keep up, but his legs were much shorter, and he ended up tripping over himself and toppling over onto the ice. Dean fell next to him, and it didn’t take anything more than a glance at one another for both of them to burst out laughing. 

Seamus looked up and screamed at the sky, and Dean looked at him and grinned.

When Dean sat up and yelled as loud as he could in return, Seamus propped himself up on his elbows and watched him.

How lucky was he to be back at Hogwarts with his best friend?

_Having a best friend was nice,_ he thought.


	7. February 14th, 1992

“Do you want some of this?”

“Yeah! Can you hand me that as well? And some of that?”

“How are you so small and yet your stomach is so big?”

“Arsehole!” Seamus punched Dean in the shoulder with a grin.

Dean looked around the Great Hall, which had been decorated frivolously in pink and red. Streamers of hearts and petals descended from the enchanted ceiling, which looked like a cherry blossom in bloom. He didn’t know about all this Valentines stuff; he thought it was a little silly. But the food was good and the decorations were nice, so who was he to complain?

He nudged Seamus with his elbow and pointed at a couple across the hall, who were draped all over one another and feeding each other food. Seamus burst out laughing. 

“Couldn’t even wait to get back to their dorm," Dean said under his breath, which set Seamus off laughing again.

Once he’d calmed down, he nudged Dean and asked, “You ever liked anyone?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Who?”

“I don’t know. People. Back in primary school there was this girl called Beatrice who I liked. And this other one called Abby.” he said, “What about you?”

“Not really.”

“Not _ever_?”

“No. I don’t know.” Seamus seemed indifferent and shrugged. Not looking up from his plate, “You ever kissed anyone?”

“No. You?”

“No.”

As they finished up eating, their half-finished plates and the platters of dinner food disappeared and revealed desserts galore. Seamus’ eyes lit up and he started shoveling food onto his plate. Dean chuckled, “You’re ridiculous.”

Seamus looked up at him with a smile and shook his head. He wrapped his arm around Dean and gave him a noogie, yelling, “ _Y_ _ou’re_ ridiculous! You’re ridiculous! Dean Thomas is ridiculous!”

Dean laughed and wrestled with Seamus, “Shut up!”  
The students sitting around them turned to look at them as they wrestled. A couple older Gryffindors at their table laughed and cheered them on. 

An older Hufflepuff boy at the table next to them shouted across, “The leprechaun finally got a boyfriend?”

Dean stopped dead and immediately dropped it, frowning, pushing Seamus off of him. He rubbed the back of his neck embarrassedly and poked at his food with his fork. Seamus poked at him but he shrugged him off. Some boys behind them laughed.

“The leprechaun has an _ex-_ boyfriend?” another boy joined in, inspiring laughs from a few students sitting around them.

Dean felt his face flush. He looked down at Seamus, who was looking between him and the Hufflepuffs that were making fun. He looked confused and fiddled with his hands in his lap.

Across the table from them, Oliver Wood yelled, “Aye, leave them alone.”

“I just want to be able to eat in peace without all these poofs sitting in front of me! That's all!” the first boy said, in a mockingly-innocent voice.

Percy Weasley stood up from his seat next to Oliver and reprimanded them. 

Dean’s face was burning up. He glanced at Seamus, who was looking rather sad slumped over in his seat, and then at his classmates around the table, who were pointedly avoiding looking at the two of them. He chewed the inside of his cheek and propped his head up on his fist.

Dean didn’t feel like eating anymore.


	8. February 15th, 1992

Seamus couldn’t sleep. He’d been tossing and turning all night. The other boys in his dorm were already fast asleep.

Dean was fast asleep.

So instead of laying in bed for what could have been hours longer, he got up. Just to take a walk around the common room; maybe to tire himself out, maybe to find something useful to do, maybe to distract himself. He didn’t know. He quietly opened the door to the dormitory and tip-toed out.

The common room was empty except for the couch next to the fireplace, where Percy and Oliver sat, presumably doing homework. They had books and scrolls of parchment spread out over their laps, and they were leaning against each other and bickering about something. Percy jumped when he saw Seamus lurking by the stairs.

“What are you doing up?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Seamus shrugged, “What are you doing up?”

“That’s none of your business. You should be in bed.”

Oliver rolled his eyes at Percy and answered, “We’re working on a thing for potions.”

Seamus sat on the floor in front of the fire and stared into it, thinking. 

He could see Percy and Oliver looking at him out of the corner of his eye but paid them no mind, and soon enough they got back to work. 

After a while, he turned to them and asked, “Can I ask you a question?”

They looked up and Percy gestured for him to continue.

“What does-”, Seamus stopped short. He felt embarrassed. Like this was something he should already know. Everyone else already knew it. They looked at him expectantly and he decided to just swallow his shame and ask, “What does poof mean? Why was Josiah McKinnon calling me and Dean that?”

Percy and Oliver looked at each other, and then back at Seamus. Oliver opened his mouth like he was going to speak but stopped.

After what felt like a long time, Percy finally answered, “It’s a derogatory term for homosexuals.”

Seamus looked down into his lap. That didn’t answer his question at all. He didn't want to bother them with another.

Oliver tilted his head and looked at him. When he met Oliver's eyes, he shook his head softly. In a gentle and quiet voice, Oliver said, “A homosexual -- or, like, a gay person -- is a person who likes their same gender. A girl who falls in love with a girl. Or…”

Seamus looked up at them suddenly with a furrowed brow, “But you can’t -- I mean I didn’t -- I didn’t know boys _could_ …”

Percy and Oliver regarded him carefully and then looked at each other, conferring through quizzical expressions.

Oliver slowly asked Seamus, “You’ve never heard of gay people?”

Seamus carefully shook his head, “I always just lived with my mum and she never -- and then I came here and nobody ever -- do people think that me and Dean are?”

“They’re just giving you guys shit. Nobody thinks that.”

Barely letting Oliver finish, Seamus piped up, “Is it bad?”

The two looked taken aback and suddenly uncomfortable by that question. They shifted away from each other slightly and Percy answered, “Some people think so.”

Seamus suspected that was the best answer he was going to get. He sat in front of the fire for a little while longer, and then stood up wordlessly to go to bed.

“Goodnight, kid,” Oliver said.

Seamus waved at them silently and disappeared up the stairs.


	9. March 13th, 1992

“You’re not allowed to complain about being tired if you’re just not going to sleep,” Dean came down the stairs behind Seamus and ruffled his hair as he sat down.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“I noticed,” he leaned back and rested his elbows on the stair just above him, looking down at Seamus, who was stooped forward.

“What are you doing up?”

“ _I_ couldn’t sleep.”

Seamus chuckled.

“Are you nervous about the exam tomorrow?

“Not really. I know I’m going to fail.”

Dean laughed.

Seamus turned around and faced him with a tired smile on his face. 

Dean had a thought about asking what was wrong, but he pushed it aside. He probably wouldn’t answer, anyway. Seamus wasn’t the kind of person who bore his feelings to others. Instead he asked, “Have you seen the moon tonight?”

“No.”

Dean grabbed Seamus around his wrist and led him to one of the common room windows, “Look at that.”

Seamus leaned into the window frame and stared up at the night sky. Clouds encircled the bright yellow full moon, which illuminated the land below. It was light enough outside to see perfectly clearly. Dean looked up at the moon, and then back down at Seamus, who had this expression of wonder on his face. 

Suddenly he turned to Dean with a grin and excitedly whispered, “What if we went down there and played some football?”

Dean looked around the room and turned back to Seamus, “Not a chance! We’d get caught!”

“What if we didn’t get caught, though?” he bounced up and down and pointed outside with his thumb, “You know you want to. Come on, Dean.”

Dean bit his lip and shook his head, “You’re crazy. Do you know what McGonagall would do to us?”

“ _Please?_ Please, please, please?”

Dean sighed and smiled, “Fine. But we can’t get caught.”

“Oh come on. Harry and Ron get in enough trouble that McGonagall wouldn’t even notice us. They’re probably out doing something right now.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean laughed.

“You wait here, I’ll go get the ball.”

“Be quiet!” Dean whispered up at him as he ran up the stairs. He chuckled and shook his head. 


	10. April 16th, 1992

“Where is Sally-Anne?” Seamus bounced on the balls of his feet and looked around at all of Dean’s friends.

“I’m here! I’m here!” she came running up the corridor and joined the group, out of breath.

“You’re late,” Seamus gave her a birthday hat and a party horn, “we’ve been waiting.”

“Sorry!”

Seamus counted heads and asked, “You all ready?”

They rounded the corner and burst into the Great Hall clapping and singing happy birthday. After a few beats some other students and teachers joined in, and Dean awkwardly laughed and covered his face. They walked down the aisle and surrounded him, and Seamus finished it off by putting a party hat on his head. Some Gryffindors applauded and a few students wished him a happy birthday through the noise.

The whole group sat around him at the table -- even the ones who weren’t Gryffindors -- and took turns patting him on the back and hugging him. Seamus took his place next to Dean and ruffled his hair, which earned him a grin and a hug around the shoulders.

“Did you do this?”

Seamus winked and pulled a package out from inside his robes. 

Dean shook his head and said, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Open it.”

He did, and inside was a leatherbound sketchbook and a set of lightly-used pencils. He flipped through it and a homemade card fell out. In pencil, on the front, was a crude drawing of Dean playing football and big bubble letters at the top that declared “Happy Birthday”. Inside, Seamus had written: _Quidditch is still better ;)_

He chuckled and punched Seamus in the shoulder, “You wish.”

“What did your parents get you?” Daphne asked from across the table.

"Do you feel any different now that you're twelve?" Ron asked.

"My birthday isn't until _summer._ I'll have nobody to spend it with!" Sally-Anne exclaimed, and suddenly his other friends had pulled Dean into conversations and Seamus was forgotten,

He watched Dean laugh and joke around with his friends. He knew he shouldn’t feel jealous; that he was Dean’s best friend, and that he could join in if he wanted to. But he got the feeling that none of them liked him very much, so he busied himself stuffing himself full of food and listening idly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything,” Neville said, “I have some leftover toffee and chocolate frogs, though. From Valentine's Day.”

“It’s fine, I don’t need anything,” Dean said, “I’m just glad you’re all here.”

Susan handed Dean a book, “Do you like it?”

Dean was about to speak when out of nowhere Seamus piped up, “Dean has dyslexia, he doesn’t like reading.”

Susan looked down apologetically, “Sorry, Dean.”

“It’s alright, I’m sure I’ll like it,” he smiled at her across the table.

“And he can’t even eat toffee, Neville. It’ll ruin his braces.”

The group fell into an awkward silence and Dean looked down at Seamus with a raised eyebrow.

Seamus looked down at his hands in his lap with a sour expression on his face.

“I can still eat chocolate frogs, though,” Dean said lightly, putting his arm around Seamus and nodding at Neville.

Seamus leaned into Dean and looked up at the group guiltily. He pointed down the table and said, “The hats and horns were Hermione’s idea.”

Dean reeled him in tighter and smiled.


	11. May 24th, 1992

“Avivors!” Seamus waved his wand at the mouse sitting in front of him, to which nothing happened.

Dean snickered and put his head in his hands.

“It’s not funny! You do it, then, if it’s so easy!”

“Not you. _That_.” Dean pointed at Hermione, who’d performed the spell perfectly and now had a stark white bird perched on her desk.

“Ugh,” Seamus stretched his arms out across the table and let his face fall against the wood, lightly hitting his forehead against it and groaning.

Dean laid his head on the table facing Seamus, “Cheer up! She’s, like, a genius. Nobody can do this one.”

As he said that, two Slytherin girls in the table behind them turned their pot into a bird. Upon seeing it, Seamus buried his head in his arms and groaned even louder.

Dean tried concealing his giggling by covering his face, but Seamus’ look of disapproval set him off cackling. Seamus shook his head and started laughing, too. Dean rubbed his eyes and opened them to see Professor McGonagall standing in front of them, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

“Unless there’s a bird somewhere that I can’t see, this lesson isn’t over for the two of you. Get back to work.”

Seamus immediately sat up straight and said, “Yes, Professor.”

Dean suppressed his laughter and nodded, “Yes, Professor.”

When she walked away, Seamus punched him in the arm and gestured at their mouse, who remained unchanged, huddled in its cage.

“This is probably impossible.”

“Probably.”

They started snickering again, quieter this time. Dean opened the door to the cage and took the mouse out. It looked between the two of them, and when Dean prepared the incantation, it leapt off of the table, onto the bench, and then onto the floor, scuttling across the cold stone towards an exit.

They jumped out of their seats and ran after it, trying to get a hold of it.

“Where’d it go?” 

“There!”

A girl shrieked and climbed onto her bench as it ran under her, and another boy hopped to avoid stepping on it on his way down the aisle.

They followed it up to the front of the classroom, where it beelined for a crack between a bookshelf and the wall. Dean chased it around McGonagall’s desk but Seamus stopped and instead flicked his wand with the recitation, “Avivors!”

The mouse evaporated into smoke, and a big white bird erupted from the mist. Seamus stood there dumbfounded, staring at it. The rest of the class was silent, jaws dropped. Dean looked at it, then looked at Seamus, and burst into excited laughing. He jumped up and down enthusiastically and looped his arm around Seamus’ shoulders.

“You did it! You did it! How did you do that?”

Seamus crushed his hand across his forehead and laughed in disbelief, “How _did_ I do that?”

McGonagall walked over to them and invited the bird to sit on her wrist. She gave the two boys a stern look and then gave them a subtle smile, “Nice work, Mr. Finnigan.”


	12. June 11th, 1992

“There’s my mum!”

Seamus ran up to meet his mother with Dean trailing close behind. She enveloped him in a hug and kissed the top of his head. He began babbling about the year and all the things she had missed when, from behind them, a little girl started yelling.

Seamus turned around to see Dean catch her in his arms and spin her around.

“Ruthie! Look at you! You’re getting so big!” he set her down and hugged his other sisters, who were all grinning at him excitedly. His parents were right behind them.

Mrs. Thomas waved at Seamus and his mum and then took Dean in with a big hug, “Oh, my boy. I’ve missed you!”

“I missed you too!"

As Dean greeted his parents, two of his little sisters began introducing themselves to Seamus.

“I’m Halle!”

"I’m Winnie! Are you Seamus? Do you have an accent?”

Seamus laughed, “Yeah, I’m Seamus. Dean’s told me a lot about you.”

“Has he told you about _me_?” asked an older girl.

“I’ve told him lots about all of you, Lucy,” his sisters clung to him and he gave his attention back to Seamus and his mother.

Seamus’ mum offered her hand to Dean and his parents, “You’re Dean, then?”

“Yeah! It’s so nice to meet you.” 

“We’ve heard so much about Seamus,” said Dean’s dad.

Seamus gave Dean an awkward smile as their parents got acquainted with each other. The reality of the situation had just set in. This was the last time they would see each other for _months_.

“You have my address?”

“Yeah.”

As their parents talked, Seamus looked around at all their classmates meeting up with their families and leaving. He wouldn’t see any of them for some months, either. A deep sadness drummed in his stomach.

He was brought back to the conversation when Dean’s dad said, “Right, well. We’d better be going.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Seamus,” said Dean’s mum with a smile.

Dean gave him a sad smile and started to wave goodbye when Seamus launched forward and hugged Dean tightly around his middle. At first Dean tensed up, but then he leaned in and hugged him back. 

Seamus closed his eyes against Dean’s shoulder and mumbled, “Write to me, okay?”

He felt Dean nod.

When they pulled away from each other, Dean picked up little Ruth and held Halle’s hand and said goodbye, and his dad held Lucilla’s hand and tipped his hat, and his mum held Winnie’s hand and waved kindly. And then they disappeared into the crowd. 

His mom squeezed his shoulder.

The last glimpse he got was of Dean looking back at him with a smile.

He missed him already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I'm really sorry that updates have been so sporadic. Recently I've been quite busy and it's been hard finding time to write. Thanks for tuning in! I really appreciate the support :)


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